


mi colpi di sua voce

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-01
Updated: 2009-11-01
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: This is how Maria is now. This is how Maria once was. This is how Cross sees her and how he remembers her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://springkink.livejournal.com/profile)[springkink](http://springkink.livejournal.com/): _D.Gray-man, Cross/Maria: Obsession - It was only one time_

**mi colpi di sua voce**   
__The sweet sound, hits me, his voice!  
Ah, that voice into my heart decends!  
Edgardo, I surrender to you  
A chill creeps into my breast!  
trembles every fiber!  
“Il dolce suono" from The "Mad Scene" from Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor  
” 

Maria's Grave appears and Cross, at least, gives her all his attention. There's nothing else he can give her but that. His offered hand and she steps away from the coffin, her hand light on his, the swish of her gown nothing but a whisper. Corpse-white her skin, the mask covering the ruin that the akumas left of her face, but then Maria makes a motion as if she still needed to breath and the first note of her voice still breaks his heart.

_(This is how he always will remember her: a white dress, a golden cross upon her breast, her dark hair tumbling down her back, her eyes closed as she sings Ave Maria, and around her, dozens of coffins, and he wasn't far enough to notice that her expression was dark where her voice was clear and pure. Alive, alive, alive.)_ 


  
Maria sings: she's Titania, Delilah, Desdemona. The Akuma crumble at her feet, their nervous system destroyed. Cross accompanies it with the bang of Judgment, her voice rising, the long line of her throat only interrupted by the silk that wraps around her throat were her innocence was almost torn away from her. He offers her his hand and this Maria shell still takes it, just the tip of her fingertips resting against his as she turns.

_(This is how she was: beautiful and smart, laughing above him, against him, around him. Teasing, her eyes dangerous, red lips and her gaze pointed, lethal. Her mouth tasted of cinnamon and mint, and every now and then she took just one drag of his cigarette, letting it burn between her lips, her lipstick shining red on the paper when she gave it back)_ 


  
Maria is his Isolde, Eurydice, Lucia. The shadow of a woman that once was, a beautiful doll that is not really there. His gloved hand touches the sharp line of her jaw and throat, the intact turn of her mouth. Cross raises her hand to his lips and he wonders if he imagines the scent of dried out flowers and death.

_(This only happened once: she wakes up and her hair is dark and tumbling down her back. Cross breathes in smoke that feels like velvet, as naked as she is, still feeling her fingernails on his back, the way her thighs had pressed his hips, the soft heat of her cunt around his cock. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, the scarring on her throat from her Innocence both ugly and mystifying, enthralling where his finger could rub against the stone-like Innocence and she would shiver.)_ 


  
Maria finishes and he is the only one left for an applause that doesn't matter any longer, but he still gives it to her. He imagines she would smile, laugh, mock him, call him in his bluff: he knows shit about music, about opera, and she always knew.

Still. Respect is due where it's due. That doesn't change at all.  



End file.
